


how does one go about being nice

by Sorahana



Series: Even heroes needs saving once in a while [2]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Robbie plays the kindly matron (ugh), Sickfic, he's not fooling anyone that he Cares, or Robbie discovers Feelings (maybe), pls give these two loads of hugs, pre relationship feels, the lovable elf is sick surprise surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 15:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorahana/pseuds/Sorahana
Summary: Robbie's not used to this whole being '''nice''' gig. Why did he have to do this again?





	

**Author's Note:**

> what else to say other than I love to hurt Sporty bc he's always so extra that seeing him miserable is a (terribly) good feeling?as always apologies for oocness/mistakes and I hope you'll enjoy!

Sportacus knew something was terribly wrong the moment he came to consciousness. The room was spinning and he hadn’t opened his eyes yet. He let out low groan through his dry, cracked lips. Making that sound alone hurt his throat, like he had tried to speak while he was swallowing a handful of nails. 

He shifted his body and in his fuzzy awareness, he realized that this wasn’t his bed. The covers were much too soft and silky. Aside from that, this place was decidedly quieter than his airship. There was no slight sway he was so accustomed to. 

Maybe it was a good thing. His stomach sort of flopped at the thought of the side to side motion. 

Sportacus let out another groan, this time calling forth the attention of someone who just entered the bedroom. 

Robbie looked up in surprise, just barely holding onto the tray of soup filled with disgusting vegetables and a glass full of ugh, water. He hurriedly placed the tray down on a nearby table before he approached the elf.

“Sportaloon, you awake?” Robbie’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, which Sportacus’s headache appreciated very much.

“R’by?” He mumbled, eyes still closed. His head did turn towards the source of the sound. “Wh’r ‘im I..?

The villain’s lips formed a frown that was most definitely not out of worry. 

“You don’t remember?” He asked, adding in a hint of mockery so Sportanerd wouldn’t notice his… interest in his health. 

All was quiet for a moment before the hero let out a pitiful ‘no’.

Robbie ran his fingers through his hair once before he crossed his arms. “You were being dumb. Did it ever occurred to you that maybe staying in bed was better than jumping around like a stupid kangaroo when your brain is being scrambled?”

Unwillingly, his brilliant brain decided to be treacherous by replaying the previous scene again. Sportadork was flipping around like usual when he just tipped over and fell to the ground. After the initial laughter had ended, Robbie watched how the blue elf didn’t even attempt to get up. His betraying legs brought him to Sportakook, who looked like he had one foot in the door to the afterlife. 

Robbie had placed the back of his hand on Sportafreak’s sweat slicked forehead. While he knew the elf sported a fever just from his flushed cheeks, he didn’t expect it to be scorching. 

How was he even conscious, let alone flipping around like a moron was anyone’s guess. What Robbie knew was he had to do something. Left untreated, that fever could potentially become life threatening. Leaving Sportaloser like that… even he couldn’t find it in him to be that evil. 

That was how he had a sick sport elf in his bed. It had been an ordeal to lug the nearly unconscious hero to his lair in the first place but Sportakook had been cooperative long enough to make the walk with his face pressed against his chest. 

(Robbie swore that the pitiful noises the loon was making should be illegal).

The inventor also managed to get Sportaloon in some more comfortable clothes. Again, it was a completely troublesome process, one that involved more hurt animal noises than Robbie was comfortable with. At least one of his rarely used pajamas got to serve its purpose. It was definitely better that the elf’s soaked through attire.

Sportanerd had been knocked out for a good few hours now, shivering underneath the covers with the occasional whimper escaping his lips. Robbie felt a bit out of place, which shouldn’t have been the case since it was his lair. He didn’t know what else to do with his sworn enemy being completely miserable in his bed.

In the end, he decided to fetch items that should help with that awful fever. A bowl of slightly chilled water, some rags and fever reducer was placed on his bedside table. He then went on to make something for Sportaloser to eat. That should help– make him feel energetic enough that he could leave his lair immediately, right?

Now here he was, looking down at Sportadofus’ pathetic form, tone distressingly close to how a worried mother would scold her child for doing something dumb

This stupid energetic elf had done something completely ridiculous. Honestly. 

Sportacus didn’t answer but the way he sort of curled into a ball answered his question as plain as day.

Robbie sighed out loud. And he was supposed to be the dramatic one.

“There’s nothing you can do but rest and let whatever that’s ailing you run its course,” he replied, lips set in a thin line. “Seriously. Ruining my peaceful afternoon. Can’t I have even one day of peace?”

Sad noises from the lump on the bed.

A louder, more dramatic sigh. This time, Robbie refrained from saying something scathing – which was totally not to hide his worry or anything – and instead, pressed his hand against Sportaloon’s forehead.

There was a small, pleased sigh as the sick elf leaned further into his touch, as if he wanted to absorb all the delicious relief it brought to his fiery skin. Robbie totally did not wince in sympathy at the small, dejected cry when he pulled his hand back.

He really need to get that fever down to a more manageable level. Now that he was somewhat awake, Robbie felt that he could finally use the rag and water. Even when unconscious, Sportaloser kept tossing and turning that the damp rag wouldn’t have done much.

He dipped the rag into the bowl of water, wrung it out before folding it into a neat rectangle. Robbie then placed it on Sportakook’s forehead, who at first gasped and almost recoiled at the contact.

“C-Cold,” was the chattered reply.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Robbie found himself saying. He tried it once more and thankfully, Sportanut stayed still long enough that it should help with the fever.

The elf was still shivering and he looked like he wanted to swipe away the freezing cloth on his forehead.

Robbie’s hand somehow made its way to Sportaloon’s twitching arm. “Don’t. I promise you it’ll really help. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can play outside with those brats.”

The villain nearly gagged at the soothing tone that he used. What was he, a kindly matron that was looking after her sick charge?

At least it gave the desired effect. While Sportaloser really looked like he wanted to move, he stayed as still as his shivering frame allowed him to. This gave Robbie the opportunity to replace the cloth.

Of course just because somewhere up there found his suffering amusing, he had to repeat the whole being disgustingly kind gig because Sportadumb kept doing the same thing. Had his brain been fried completely? Why must he keep making the promise that he will feel better?

(And why was he still offering those comforting words even when he didn’t have to?)

Ugh. Sportaloon owed him a year’s worth of cake for this. Robbie said so.

An unintelligible whine that Robbie took as a yes came from the indisposed hero. 

Perfect. Now doing this whole niceness thing wasn’t going to be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> robbie only gets two cakes and then something sportasweeter (not that he'll ever admit kissing the sport nut is better than cake. that is sacrilegious how dare u


End file.
